


Veneration

by magnetar3



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, DCU (Comics), Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Antiope - Freeform, F/F, Inspired by Wonder Woman (2017), Lesbian Sex, Reader-Insert, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 18:57:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11720475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetar3/pseuds/magnetar3
Summary: An Amazon begrudgingly attends a festival dedicated to the fall equinox.  Yet, a mischievous friend has other plans in store for her.Originally written and published for Tumblr, so if it seems familiar, that may be why.This was a snippet of an idea that ballooned into this 1,600+ document.  Outside of sexual content and alcohol consumption this is fairly vanilla, content wise.  This was my first foray into characterizing Antiope outside of her duty as general.  I think she would have a mischievous sense of humor.  Anyway, enough prattle.Feedback is always appreciated.





	Veneration

Thesmophoria. A festival dedicated to the goddess Demeter and her daughter Persephone. Held during the third season of the calendar year, autumn. The amazons gathered for the annual sacrifice, hunted by Artemis, the massive boar was slain and roasted. Smoke billowed to the heavens, nourishing the gods.

  


You stood on the outskirts, watching a close friend dance around a roaring bonfire. “Y/n! Come!” You smile but shake your head. Kore’ pranced over, obviously unhappy with your answer. “Even scholars dance, sister. Come, give Demeter your praise.” “I’ve never been a dancer, Kore’.” “Because you do not drink enough.” She palms a nearby pitcher of wine and presses it to your lips, you open your mouth to take a sip only to have it spill down your chest. Kore’ giggles and mocks a sincere apology. “Perhaps you’ve had enough.” You hiss. She laughs and holds her hand up, “Peace, sister. Look, the beach is not far, why not wash it there?” Something did not feel quite right. Kore’ was up to something, her expression told you as much, but the wine seeping into your favorite dress pushed your suspicions aside. You walk down the hill, away from the bonfire and towards the beach. Washing your frock, a horse thunders by with a rider in full armor.

  


Usually couples would come down and populate the site with the sighs of amorous ventures, but your only company was the moon shining brightly on the water and the mysterious rider. She dismounts her steed. You halt as she approached. Any amazon would recognize their greatest warrior.

  


“General. Good evening,” you lightly bow your head. A smirk plays at Antiope’s lips as she returns the favor. Her gaze roams over your form, taking in your bare chest with curiosity.  
“Too many libations?”  
“Too few, per my friend,” you nod your head in the direction of the hill.  
“Ah. So, she saw fit to assist you.”

  


“Not quite the word I’d use,” you sigh, wringing out the excess water from the fabric. The sound of faint laughter chimes near as she reached your side, gaze lingering upon the sky. Antiope closes her eyes, arms slightly raised as the ocean wind blew over her shoulders. Something flowered near your abdomen as you drank in the sight of her silent prayer to the sea, watching her chest gently rising in time to the breeze. Being a scholar you were well versed with the general’s contribution to Amazonian history. Yet you were still unprepared for the reality of the woman behind those deeds. Every poem, account, verse paled in comparison to the curve of her neck, the bend of her jaw or the power circling her like a vulture to carrion.

  


Your heart jumps at the sight of her returning your gaze. Fumbling to gather your dress, a sharp wind threatens to snatch the upper half of your dress out to sea. Antiope catches it and offers the garment to your hand. Extending fingers, you reach for the garment, briefly Antiope’s fingers brush against your now trembling hand. A need was growing in the pit of your heart, making your blood rush with anticipation.

  


“A-apologies.”  
“What is your name?”  
“Y/n.”  
“You needn’t treat me like a stranger, y/n.”  
She walks by as a fitful breath escapes your lungs, a vain attempt to regain some semblance of composure. Music floated down to your ears, a beat heavy with drum. As if on cue, Antiope climbs onto her horse. Trotting towards you, she extends a hand at your bemused expression. Her eyes glint, setting the flame you were trying to suffocate alight once more.  


You couldn’t refuse.

  


Reaching down she hoists you up, wrapping your arms around her shoulder and waist for support. The brush of her body against yours was pure agony. Strength and grace emitted from her with every undulation of the steed.

  


You silently prey that she is not privy to the suffering that currently twisted your senses.

  


The dancing around the bonfire had ceased, and in its place a twelve-foot hurdle was erected, towering high above the flames. Amazons in full armor stood single file, with Artemis in the center. Antiope rides a circle around the fire, prompting cheers from the crowd. Your bewilderment fades when the sight of Kore’, standing with a grin near a pedestal, comes into view. This game was a tradition. It mimicked the spiriting away of Persephone by Hades. Each year, she would return to the underworld during the harvest and would re-emerge come spring. Themyscira’s best athletes would compete in a mask for the chosen representation of Persephone. Your friend knew the risk of your visit to the beach, and her machinations proved correct.

  


Antiope stopped at the pedestal, gently lowering you down to the ground before galloping off.  
“I am not amused, Kore’.”  
“You forced my hand with your solemn countenance, sister. Besides, was the ride not a treat?”

  


“More of a cruel jest,” you mummer. Antiope has not participated in the game for some time, deferring to the role of judge. The short-lived fantasy you fostered on the beach not moments before was now purely just that. With a sigh, you sat on the wooden stool as Kore’ draped the ceremonial cloak over your shoulders, thus signifying the start of the game.

  


The jump was high, even for the best amazon. Many fell short or clipped the tip of the hurdle, narrowly escaping the fire below. Your aloofness refused to fall from your mood until a gasp rippled through the mob, catching your full attention. A quiet fell over everyone, impregnating the air. Suddenly, a masked figure comes into view, soaring over the obstacle.

  


They triumphantly land sending a roar threw the throng of festival goers. Shock and relief wash over you.  
Kore’ secures a blindfold over your eyes and stands you up. The sound of horse hooves stop at your feet as an arm extends down, you take it as another cheer tears threw the crowd. Firmly secured, the victor takes off, leaving newfound sounds of merriment behind.

  


Eventually the horse is halted. Judging by the sound, you were near freshwater. Capable hands gently encase themselves around your waist, hoisting you off the mount. Instantly you begin fumbling with the cloth around your head.

  


“Allow me,” you stop and feel the knot come undone. You were near a grotto. The moon cast water brightened the surrounding rock, creating a muted play of light.  
“So, this is the Underworld?”

  


The combatant unclasped their mask and pulled it back. Antiope’s grin revealed underneath.

  


“You?”

  


Antiope playfully offers a small bow and saunters a path towards the water’s edge. She kneels and splashes its cool contents across her brow.

  


“Apologies. I was aware of your lack of participation in the ceremony, but proceeded to abduct you.”

  


Now, you were busy removing the cumbersome cloak attached to your shoulders, but upon her confession all movement from you had ceased.

  


“General I-”

  


“-Antiope, please.”

  


You swallow and regain your breath.

  


“Antiope, I thought you a judge, not a participant.”

  


“I confess having no excuse other than you.”

  


She sat near a mossy patch of foliage, and signaled you towards her. You sat next to her, she leaned in and gestured at the clasp fastening your cloak.  
“May I?”

  


You nod, she leans in and continues.

  


“I’ve been observing you throughout the evening,” the clasp comes undone.

  


She briefly steals a glance at your, nearly permanent, bemused expression and chuckles.

  


“You seem shocked,” she manages to say between laughs. “Surely I’m not the first to…?”

  


“No! No, it’s merely…unexpected coming from you.”

  


Antiope sighs as the last parcel of armor falls away. She leans in, seemingly fixated with the curve of your mouth. A thumb traces its outline, the calloused flesh betraying the soft gesture.

  


“It should never be unexpected. Your qualities are demure yet beautiful.”

  


Without noticing Antiope plucked the pin holding your dress together allowing it to loosen. Delicately nudging the garment away from your shoulder, she plants a kiss on the newly bared flesh. It has more sensation than anticipated, as a gasp escapes you.

  


Your body didn’t feel your own, even though it felt consumed with fire. You watch as Antiope caressed your jaw. You felt a tug as she entwined her fingers around the base of your neck, pulling your lips towards her own. The kiss was tender but hints of lust flared as you pulled away.

  


“Why are we here?” you breathe.

  


“Veneration.”

  


Her lips claim yours again, this time her strength presses you back allowing her to deepen the kiss. The sensation starts to build an elevation that left you begging for its ascent. Her hand roams down your body, removing cloth and sending trails of desire along its length. Pleasure converges to one area as her hand slips between the warmth of your legs. Eyes shut tight, the feeling of her hand creating small circles around your mound become more acute. Blindly you reach out towards Antiope, yet the motion is quickly terminated as she grasps your wrist and pins it above you. Your bundle of nerves was completely alight with pleasure; moans the only utterances you could access.

  


“I…I can’t…”

  


“You can’t…?”

  


Ignoring your plea her fingers quicken, dissolving the indiscernible chain keeping you from letting go. Unconsciously your eyes snap open. The sky brilliantly shines down, a blessing urging you to believe. This was their true offering, the method of worship they craved. A cry of pleasure tears from your throat as the wave of your orgasm comes crashing down.

  


Antiope sighs and clings to your exhausted frame. The sky becomes overcast, allowing the dark to soothe you both to slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> The Thesmophoria was an ancient Greek religious festival, held in honor of the goddess Demeter and her daughter Persephone.


End file.
